This material was obtained on a field trip to Haiti which was made possible by a post- draw the souls of these creatures from their bodies and hide them.
Table of contents
- Supporting education, art, and health in Haiti
- Subscribe by Email
- All Souls Day, A Haitian Tradition
- Vassar Haiti Project
On top of this knowledge and divine healing powers, Sisius also happens to throw the best parties. Here, Vodou defies cliches of zombies, pins in dolls and black magic. There are none of the cornflour drawings, animal sacrifices or rattles that characterize orthodox Haitian Vodou ceremonies: Not literally, of course. In local folklore, the sacred species silk-cotton tree in English is the embodiment of someone heroic and Haiti was mourning the death of Max Gesner Beauvoir, the supreme chief of Vodou.
Beauvoir, who stumbled into spiritualism after 15 years as a biochemist in the US, worked tirelessly to protect vodouisants from defamation and persecution. At a time when Haiti still had tourism, he held spectacles of entranced women, legs akimbo and biting heads of chickens, even staging a honeymoon ceremony for the Clintons. While perhaps creating some stereotypes of his own, few did more than Beauvoir in battling distorted horror-flick cliches still associated with Haitian Vodou.
In , he was officially initiated. The rhythms walk with dance steps, with colors, with spirits, with prayer. The rhythms walk with God. Aid workers dance next to local hipsters, elderly couples next to a local LGBT chapter. This is his part in dispelling myths about the practice. They think Vodou is about sorcery, maybe love magic, usually some sort of sinister practice.
The s and s cinema — the heyday of B-films like White Zombie and pulp fiction — helped reinforce caricatures of Africans as hypersexualized, superstitious and demonic. The religion was born with institutional slavery. Ripped from homelands and heritage, thousands of those who would become Haitians were shipped across the Atlantic to an island, where the indigenous population had already been wiped out, for backbreaking labor in cane plantations.
As animals to be bought and sold; worth nothing more than a cow. Cows cannot dance, cows do not sing. Cows cannot become God. Watch me create divinity in this world you have given me that is so ugly and so hard. Watch me become God in front of your eyes. And so Vodou, unlike eastern spirituality which is often focused on the mind, begins in the human flesh: Haitians dance, rather than think, their way to ecstasy; a transcendence into a more beautiful reality. Divine possessions are reserved for Haitians, who inherit their spirits through bloodlines, explains Lowenthal, who attended countless rituals in mountain villages during his research.
It shows you what a human being can do. White people lost their spirits centuries ago. We lost it all.
The Haitians believe we used to have spirits, but we were too stupid to keep them. By the fire, a young woman possessed by Ezili Dantor, the warrior-mother lwah often iconized as Black Madonna, slit the throat of a large black creole pig and distributed its blood to the revolutionaries, who swore to kill the blancs — white settlers — as they drank it.
Haitian Vodou became a religion with rebellion and freedom at its heart. They were better than their masters, able to live in another realm.
In a bustling neighborhood in Port-au-Price, his peristyle vodou temple is tucked away between colorful barbershops and vendors hawking barbecued chicken. Ricardo shakes a beaded rattle in all four directions and then pours rum on the cement floor three times: He may be in a Justin Bieber T-shirt and jeans now, but the peristyle is the only place Ricardo can dress the way he really prefers: While homosexuality in Haiti is not illegal, it is not socially acceptable. Having the opportunity of seeing both the beauty and hardships in Haiti, I can now feel the weight of responsibility pressing more urgently on my shoulders, as I am even more committed to making a difference there.
Ti pa ti pa, wazo fe niche li—little by little, the bird builds its nest. Being in Haiti feels like it happened decades ago, yet the faces, laughters, and memories are still vivid in my mind. In fact, there are so many connections I drew and should draw from Haiti: Somehow, even though this was my first time in Haiti, I feel more rooted in Haiti than in America. Again, I appreciate the opportunity to be in Haiti, to feel even just a small part Haiti, and to experience Haiti with all of the amazing trippers.
They are talented, sweet, kind, considerate, reflective, and I am just so proud to be part of this amazing team. As for now, I am ready to be bonded with the trippers and VHP for my whole life. One of the things I was confronted with when I went to Haiti was my thoughts. With all this in mind, by the end of our trip to Haiti I learned that self-reflection cannot be instantaneous. Rather, it needed to settle with me before I could respond to my thoughts and the conclusions that arose from them.
That being said, being in Haiti taught me the true meaning of being present.
Supporting education, art, and health in Haiti
By strengthening our existing partnership with Chermaitre and continuing to expand beyond the village to partner with others in Haiti to help us achieve our mission, I am excited to see where this project will take us. On hiking day, we stayed at our clinic at the bottom of the mountain until 3 pm. Suddenly, there were children from Chermaitre running down the mountain to the clinic. We were surrounded by these cute children with the biggest eyes and purest faces.
They were in green uniforms, which told us that they go to the primary school we built in Chermaitre. They just started to hold hands, grab at clothes, give pats on the shoulder, braid hair, play clapping games, and sing in Creole, just like we were their long-time best friends.
Then, they followed us all the way to the point where we started hiking. One or two children grabbed each of our hands and led us up the mountain. I was awed by how they skillfully managed the steep track in the mountain, jumping around in places that I could never imagine walking on. But they never let go of our hands. And occasionally they would even save us from slipping and then give us a big smile. That was the time when Chermaitre started feel real to me. Those children were no longer figures in a narration of one or two sentences. They are concrete, alive human beings to me.
I realized that what we are doing is not only holding sales, handling paintings and putting down numbers on inventory but really, connecting and communicating with those people. We had never met with those children. And I realized that it was the continuous effort of every VHPer in the past 18 years that made us so close. One of the most impactful moments for me in visiting Chermaitre was when we got to visit the primary school, and sit in on some of the classes. As I sat in on a sixth grade class studying biology, the teacher brought in a real plant, pointing out the roots, stem, and leaves to explain each of their structure and function.
This made me think back to the times when in my educational experience, professors would bring in artifacts, and invite guest lecturers. I remember how important it is to have a dynamic and engaging learning experience. Even though the classrooms in Chermaitre look vastly different from those on campus, I was reminded of the universality and importance of education. Education is where VHP started, and where I feel a strong connection.
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When I first joined VHP, I joined an organization that bought artwork from Haiti, sold the artwork, and used the returns to support a village known as Chermaitre. The trip added color and character to the project I had been a part of for so long, bringing to life all the people we help and adding context to all the work that we do. The trip was, in short, an amazing learning experience, a rewarding opportunity to partner with others, and the start of wonderful relationships that I hope will last me a lifetime. The March trip to Haiti was one of the most exciting and memorable times of my life.
It was just not an experience, but a glimpse of another sort of world. I got see the work VHP does for real and meet the wonderful people of Haiti — cheerful kids filled with pure happiness and laughter, hard-working, strong men and women filled with passion, and talented artists painted by inspiring dreams and aspirations.
The galleries we visited and streets of Port Au Prince we roamed were flooded with art and crafts that seemed even livelier than what I see in the closets of Main building. The primary and secondary schools had children bursting with enthusiasm and curiosity, each having a dream of their own. It was very emotional to visit the clinic in Chermaitre where I got to work with nurse Julie and see patients. Dr Gueslin was very insightful and taught us a lot about medicine while we took notes and he saw patients.
Everyone had their own stories to tell, own feelings they encountered, and own way of absorbing it all and having notions. Every day was a different story, with different adventures it their own colors. The hikes up and down on sunny and rainy days were quite an experience for me, both wonderful in terms of breathtaking sceneries and strenuous since it was my first hike.
The wild exciting car rides and our cars getting stuck in the river for hours seemed like a scene from a movie, both stressful and also relieving to see so many helping hands from generous kind-hearted Haitian souls. At a time, it felt like we could all camp out there under the gleaming stars and hear the croaking sound of river to sleep. However, our destination for that night was nearby so that did not happen. We felt comforted by the soothing wind as we encouraged all the men hard at work to get the cars out of the river, their hearts filled with sheer determination. The journey has engraved many cherished memories in my mind and has touched the deepest corners of my soul.
It has made me feel every kind of emotion, some I have never felt before. If I could go back in time at an point of my life, I would definitely relive it all again. March 14, by smassie. I woke up to the cacophony of roosters singing in harmony to the response of dogs protesting whatever impending danger they perceived. This started happening at 3am.
Especially in contrast to all I still have to learn.
While this is my 19 th trip to Haiti, the beautiful Haitian people keep reminding me of how much I can still grow. It is always humbling. In less than three days, we sat in our fifth what is now infamous debrief meeting last night. We now have a cache of over beautifully vibrant pieces of original art that we shall be selling over the coming months in our upcoming art sales.
All Souls Day, A Haitian Tradition
We are so lucky. Our partners here in Haiti remind me of why we do VHP. Benoit, I can hardly sleep also. I love you and your people. I am privileged to be welcomed into your heart and to learn from you. Being here in the rural, mountainous part of Haiti is a stark contrast to Port au Prince where we were just a day ago. Our students are transforming before our very eyes, taking in everything.
I love being with this group as I watch us drink in everything that we see.
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Journaling seems to be the antidote. I am moved beyond words watching us work as a team. I am moved beyond words watching Catherine take in the plight of Haitian artists as she interviews them and absorbs their challenges. I am inspired by how each and every one is taking care of each other — and me for that matter.
I fall in love with Andrew again and again as I watch him masterfully navigate all challenges with such strength and gentleness. I am listening and reminded what it takes to make concrete changes in a village somewhere in the depths of the Haitian mountains while concurrently making changes in our part of the world in New York.
Vassar Haiti Project
And today, we head into these breathtaking mountains where I will get to embrace some of the most loving, tenacious, and caring people in my life. But I know my heart will be singing when we arrive to see our family in Chermaitre again. Hassan, Meeraal, and I are busy journaling, trying to take in everything we have experienced.